A self-help blog from Molly Merson, Berkeley Therapist. Informed by psychoanalytic, intersubjective, social justice, and relational theories about human experiences, relationships, and the ways we move through the world. Topics include racism, depression, eating disorders, body image, growing up, anxiety, inner critic, and grief and loss. Reading this blog does not imply a therapeutic relationship with me.

In my recent piece, “The Necessary Precariousness of Hope,” I explore some of what makes hope so difficult and yet so necessary. Hope involves a capacity for being able to bear the unknown and unlikely, as Rebecca Solnit has said– which can be a beautifully expansive and playful experience given the best circumstances, and extraordinarily challenging in the most oppressive circumstances. The topic of hope was slowly rising in my mind when I went to see a band called Pussy Riot, a Russian feminist punk band whose lyrics fight for the rights of women and queer people amidst an oppressive political state.

In all honesty, the only thing I thought I knew about Pussy Riot prior to last week was what I just wrote above. But when I saw they were coming to San Francisco, I jumped on the chance to get tickets. (Bonus points for an early show, home by 10pm!)

The band I saw that evening was not the band I expected, which traditionally consisted of two main members (who have spent time in prison for protesting Putin) and 11 side members. The San Francisco show featured one person with a feminine-sounding, possibly Russian-accented voice and another person behind a mixer with a masculine-sounding voice. Both of their faces were covered by colorful woven ski masks. The music was not punk rock as I know it– it was more like fun, dance-y electronic beats. I learned from the vocalist that evening that “anybody can be Pussy Riot.” So I don’t really know who was behind those masks. Apparently, they could have been anybody.